


being one with eternity

by amonamarth



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 20 year old thor, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve, Bottom Thor, Friends to Lovers, Hanging Out, M/M, Protected Sex, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Top Steve, Top Thor, friendly thor, not anytime soon, post serum steve rogers, steve grows up in a very religious family, steve loves going on walks, thor doesn't want to find proper work, thor is open about his sexual preference, thor loves making people happy, thor loves working
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-06-25 03:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19737181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amonamarth/pseuds/amonamarth
Summary: Two worlds collide into one another. Steve, the artist with a broken hand, meets the motivated and ever so generous Thor at a flea market. Neither could've known that both of their lives were about to change forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so basically this is the first fanfic I've ever properly published so don't judge me too harshly. Enjoy!! Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated!!

Steve's pov:

Silence. Silence is what he felt like. No, not exactly, since silence was not an adjective but a noun. Cold. That was it. He felt cold. After another one and a half hours of his family forcing him to pray rosaries, he excused himself to go to the bathroom but ended up hiding in his room. He couldn’t get their voices out of his head. The sentences “ Almighty God, I beg of you to look after Stevens soul”, “Do not let the blasphemous behaviour of his acquaintances have any influence on his purity and cleanliness” and “He is just a young foolish boy who cannot look after himself, for he has already broken his arm to his inattention” wouldn’t stop roaming through his brain. He felt trapped and lost, not being able to find a way out. After what had felt like ages, he heard his family finish their prayers and go to bed.

Steve sat on his small twin-sized bed and stared at the wall. What made his mother think he would believe in her so-called “amazing, loving and gracious God” who was so “generous and caring” if he took his father’s soul? A man who would’ve rather gone to church than his own son’s birth? Who devoted his life to become the ultimate Christian and preach the religious way of life?

He glanced down on his left side of his body, imagining what he would’ve looked like if his stepfather hadn’t broken his arm. What his life would be like if his father wouldn’t have busted in at two am and had caught him drawing a field of flowers.

Steve looked at the clock on his wall. He considered going to bed but couldn’t be bothered to get himself to close his eyes. He hated wearing the cast. He hated it more than anything in the world. The fact that his father took the one thing he loved from him hurt him so much. Ever since his hand had been broken, he felt empty and kind of … lost and unmotivated.

Nothing quite fascinated him like a brush painting a story on canvas. However, not any story, a story he specifically tailored himself. It’s not like he didn’t try to write the stories he displayed via his art, it just didn’t feel right to him. As the clock wouldn´t stop ticking he decided to call it a day and went to bed, the lullaby of his parents arguing in the room next to his slowly but surely sending him to the land of dreams, his only escape from reality.

Thor’s pov:

‘‘Thor, honey, wake up! Mrs Newlington is not going to wait for a late boy like yourself! ‘‘ Frigga shouted from the kitchen. Thor yawned and got up from his bed, immediately fixing his hair. ‘‘I am awake, mother ‘‘, he sighed and went to the bathroom, in order to brush his teeth. ‘‘Loki! Good morning! Did you sleep well? ‘‘, Thor asked his younger brother, who sat on the edge of their bathtub and tapped on his phone while he was cleansing his skin. ‘‘I am certainly not ‘‘, Loki sighed as he watched his brother brush his teeth. ‘‘Mother is very excited to celebrate fathers birthday and I cannot be bothered to waste another second acting as if I would like the old bastard‘‘ Loki almost shouted before he spat out his toothpaste, fixed his hair and ran out of the room. Thor only chuckled and got himself ready, putting on his farmers’ apron so he’d leave a good first impression on the people who’d visit the farmers market.

‘‘Good morning, mother‘‘, he smiled as he ran downstairs, already taking in the smell of his favourite tea being brewed by Frigga. ‘‘Good morning, ástin mín‘‘ she answered, putting a plate covered with melon slices and two sandwiches down in front of him. His father nodded at him from the other side of the table, continuously complaining about the political situation all over the world, but Thor paid him no mind. He quickly finished his breakfast, gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and left, taking his iPod, headphones and jacket with him. The enthusiastic boy got on his bike and started making his way to the market, greeting people along the way. At one of the bus stops he passed, he saw a person his age with a gigantic cast all over his arm. ‘‘Poor guy‘‘, he thought to himself but forgot about the person the second he had to take a left.

As he arrived at his destination, a couple of older gents, making him smile and remember how much he loved giving back to people, immediately greeted him. ‘‘ Good day Mrs Newlington!‘‘, he grinned as he took out his letter of appliance. ‘‘Oh good lord I’m glad you’re here!‘‘ the woman cheered and took the letter, signing it quickly. ‘‘You’ll be working at the fruits stand today, you know how people go nuts for some home-grown strawberries and cherries‘‘ she sighed, knowing how stressful the day was going to be. After she showed him around, introduced him to the people he’d be working with that day and familiarised himself with the products he was going to sell, his shift was about to start.

He put on his friendliest smile and immediately got to work. ‘‘Young man, could you put eight of these apples in my basket? ‘‘A small lady asked and looked up at him to see his face as he´d answer. ‚‘‘of course! Anything else? ‘‘Thor asked as he weighed the apples and put them in a biodegradable bag, before he put them in her basket which looked like a toy when he held it, considering the size of his hands. ‘‘Actually yes, I was wondering how those plums tasted‘‘, she said and gave him a little smile. Thor being the friendly giant he gave her one of them to try. After about 15 minutes, she left with more than enough fruits and vegetables for the next couple of weeks.

Thor loved helping people. He loved caring for others. He loved the smile he could put on someone’s face by doing small gestures others considered as unnecessary. His heart was filled with so much love and with each passing day, he could spread it all over the world by interacting with whoever he met, never leaving anybody unhappy – which recharged him, as his mother would´ve put it.

Due to his size and Thor being a tad clumsy, he never really joined any sports teams, not even as a young teenager, since he´d always end up hurting his teammates by accident. Of course, he gave them presents and wrote them cards to apologise but it took a while until Frigga got Thor to understand that he´d have to do something else if he wanted to work with people.

Steve’s pov:

‘‘Steve; we’ve been over this. What about music? Alternatively, games like chess? On the other hand, reading? Have you tried any of the things out I told you about?’’ Steve’s therapist asked him with a stern look. ‘‘I did not get up at seven am and get here by bus just to have you tell me that I need to read a book’’ the young adult answered. That’s how all of their conversations went. Ms Griffin tried to help Steve, she really did. She just didn’t succeed. “No need to be rude, Mr Rogers. Now onto the regular questions. Have you been taken your meds? And tell me about your sleeping schedule lately”, she said calmly. Steve went on about everything she asked him about. About one and a half hours had passed when the therapist nodded and gave him a copy of their written down progress. “You should consider going ice skating or to the movies more often, Steven”, she smiled thoughtfully but got a frown from Steve as an answer.

Oh how much he hated being called Steven. It reminded him of his mother, whom he hated, and of his father, whom he missed. It reminded him of melted ice cream on his shirt and the few times he visited the overfilled beach in Italy with his family – one of the few things his father insisted on doing – going on holiday to Europe. Ever since his father passed away he hasn’t left the country. Lost in his thoughts, he stumbled towards the bus stop and caught the bus home.

Lately every day has felt the same to him. He’d gotten up, brushed his teeth, put on clothes, went for a walk to get his mind off things and ended up at home, staring against the wall, being unable to motivate himself to do anything at all (at least not until his broken arm would heal).

Steve loved his daily walks. He’d listen to podcasts, new songs he had discovered or ring his friend Sam, just to tell him about the latest drama happening on the internet. Sam obviously didn’t care but he still enjoyed listening to his friend talk to him since he moved to a bigger city in order to go to College.

“So you’re telling me you’ve been in a relationship for over two weeks and have only NOW decided to tell me about it? Samuel Wilson!”, Steve shouted into his the microphone attached to his headphones as he got off the bus.

“Calm down Stevie, you know I’ve been busy. Anyways his name is James but everyone calls him Bucky so that’s what you’re gonna call him too, alright?”, Sam answered. He had talked to Steve for almost an hour now but could never grow tired of it. He adored Steve. He’d been Steve’s biggest supporter ever since they met in Kindergarten. Of course he could’ve told Steve about Bucky earlier but hey, keep it suspenseful, am I right?

The conversation continued until Steve had reached his house and sighed softly. “Hey man I gotta hang up, I’m about to enter hell”, Steve yawned. He completely forgot about the time and only then realised that it was past eight pm. “I get it, dude. Tell your mum I said hello. Talk to you soon, alright? I wanna know what happens in the Steve Rogers Universe”, Sam chuckled and heard Steve quietly say his goodbyes. “Well done, Stevie”, he mumbled and hung up.

Steve entered the living room and took his shoes off. “Good evening Steven, how was your therapy session? Is your depression gone already?” his stepfather chuckled as he walked past him. What a fucking asshole – It’s only a matter of time until I move out, Steve thought to himself. He only needed to get himself a job - since he couldn’t work on any commissions he normally made money from.

He didn’t feel like interacting with his parents so he went straight to his room, completely forgetting about Sam’s request to talk to his mum. He threw himself onto the bed and sighed, staring at the wall, wondering if his life was going to change somehow anytime in the future, if moving forward made sense, if staying strong had a purpose. If he had a purpose. He could’ve easily been an abortion, he thought and heard himself chuckle.

All the things that could’ve happened if he wouldn’t be there. Maybe his parents would’ve had a daughter, a child his father could’ve been proud of. Unlike him, a pure and total disappointment. A daughter to protect and cherish, not like him – a son who could barely run the mile in PE and somehow be bad at everything but drawing, something he didn’t remember if his father liked. Maybe he would’ve loved Steve’s paintings and supported him, maybe he would’ve signed him up for national-wide competitions.

Perhaps he would’ve hated his art. Perhaps he would’ve ripped his sketches and canvases apart – like his stepfather did. Steve couldn’t know. Once he’s on the other side he’d ask him, Steve promised himself as he checked his phone and let the rest of the day pass by.


	2. chapter two: doing time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a day in the life of Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry about how long this took ! i was highkey busy but here we go

Beep. Beep. Beep. Steve’s alarm went off at 8am and all one could hear were his yawns and groans. “Fuck”, he whispered to himself as he turned off the annoying sound coming from his phone. For some strange reason, Steve felt energised. On every other morning, he would have woken up and thrown his phone across the room out of anger – but not today. Steve got up and quickly showered, trying not to care too much about his body as he walked past the mirror when he got dressed.  
He did not like looking at himself, in fact he never did. His friends were all good looking boys and girls with beautiful skin, amazing clothes and amazing senses of style – none of which he had.  
His skin was horrible, you wouldn’t believe how many skin care products he’d tried out in the past. His clothes were mostly thrifted, which is a good thing, but he didn’t feel like he was pulling any of them off. He didn’t like looking at his pale, flawed skin for it looked like a dirty rug. He worked out from time to time but still wasn’t satisfied with how he looked – so much for “working out will make you feel better”.

Afterwards he realised that cast on his arm made it difficult to put on his favourite sweater, but he succeeded somehow after having tried to force it on for about fifteen minutes.  
“STEVEN! COME DOWNSTAIRS; MA MADE BREAKFAST” his younger sister yelled. “I’ll be down” he mumbled, putting on a pair of socks. As he made his way downstairs, he already heard his sister talk about her boyfriend taking her to the Machine Gun Kelly gig the night before. “Then Kelly played some songs of his new album and Alex and I were kissing, it was so romantic!” she said as he put some fruit loops in his bowl and sat down next to her.

“You wouldn’t know Steve, you’ll never have a girlfriend!” she laughed as his mother gave him a stern look. “Steve will find a lovely girlfriend, I’m sure of that.” his stepfather said. “If he cleans up his act, goes to the gym and stops acting like a faggot of course” he finished off, not knowing how hardly Steve had bitten down on his tongue while he held that speech, oh how much he hated that man.

“Whatever. What were his new songs like?” Steve asked quietly to avoid any other confrontation – he’d been over this with them for about 65 times . “Cool! You wouldn’t understand though, your taste is music is like… trash” his younger sister said and laughed loudly. Sighing, he finished his food and put the plates in the dishwasher, knowing that if he tried to talk to her some more and be a normal older brother he’d only waste everyone’s time and breath. After he finished washing his hands, Steve wandered through the hallway, sat down on his bed, subsequently deciding to text Sam.

SR: morning sam, are you awake?   
SW: sup stevie! yeah, been awake since 7 bcoz bucky’s cat was acting up. you alright?  
SR: he’s got a cat? marry him what are you waiting for!!!!  
SW: dude, we’ve been together for less than a month  
SR: and  
SW: anyway, we got off topic. do you need anything?  
SR: just wanted to make sure i could still call u later  
SW: of course bud, i’m free all afternoon lol  
SR: alright! Gtg, see u soon!

Steve put on deodorant and a thin jacket before he left the house, telling his mum that he’d be going for his daily walk – something his therapist advised. At first, he hated it. He only wanted to stay in bed and paint all day, creating his own little world of characters and realms. He loved his creations. No matter if they were commissions or just sketches in general, he loved the fact that he could express his feelings and opinions in a way words never could.

He started out in front of his house the second he put his headphones in his ears. For some reason he loved songs from the early 20th century – they calmed him down the way nothing else could. Normally he wasn’t your typical music enthusiast, in fact, he knew little to nothing about music theory, but when Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman or Josephine Baker came on he knew a thing or two about their styles and the musical impact they had on the time.

As he walked past a few couples on benches and saw couples enjoying their Friday morning, he started to think about what happened at breakfast. He could never talk about his partner in front of his mother the way his sister did. He would never be able to share his love and happiness with them because they would throw him out the second he would mention the word “boyfriend”. The thought of him actually having to marry a woman one day went through his head and terrorised him. Then he chuckled. Nobody would marry his wimpy, boring butt anyway.  
Sam was going to marry someone great though, he thought. In addition, nobody loved Sam more than his mother did. They had a special bond, one very few parents and their children had. Sam did not even have to come out to her. She raised him to be comfortable enough with his sexuality that he would tell her about all the boys he liked in middle school. When Sam asked Steve whom he’d like, all he got was a frown. Nowadays Sam knows all about Steve’s secrets and unspoken truths, but when he was 12, he couldn’t just tell him about the fact that he liked boys. What if his mum would’ve found out? He would’ve been dead.

When he took a turn, he saw a poster of the upcoming flea market that was happening the day after. He took the poster in his hand and read the description:  
“BYRON BAYS THIRD ANNUAL FLEA MARKET  
JUNE 12TH; 10AM to 7PM – TOWN SQUARE  
EVERYONE IS WELCOME”

Why not, he thought to himself. Right before he could make up his mind and google some info about the market, Sam called him.

“Why didn’t you call me, man? I’ve been waiting!” Sam almost yelled into the microphone.

“I totally forgot, I was busy daydreaming” Steve sighed and sat town on a bench a few meters away from the others. 

“What have you been dreaming about?”

“Nothing new or interesting. By the way, my stepdad called me the f word again earlier”

“Again? Imagine being an idiot like him, can’t relate at all. We both know that he’s a complete dick, Stevie. You deserve none of his bullshit! One day he’s gonna pay for all this shit, I promise”

“Thank you, Sam. I needed to hear that. I don’t know what I’d do without you”

“Rot in your room, probably. And fight with your mum. Definitely the second”

“You’re right” Steve chuckled. Oh, how much Sam meant to him. “My sister talked about Machine Gun Kelly earlier, is he any good?” 

“Oh man, where do I begin?” Sam laughed. “Well, long story short – he made boring music, tried to diss Eminem, Eminem clapped back and then couldn’t handle the internet shitting on him.  
Now he’s a dude lots of white girls listen to and call themselves “rap fans”. Want more info?”

“No, I think I’ve heard enough. He sounds boring though, glad I didn’t waste my time checking him out” Steve laughed. 

The conversation went on for another quarter to an hour before Steve decided to head home. The weather wasn’t looking too nice anymore and it just had turned 3 pm, time for him to take his meds. As he walked home, he thought about selling stuff at the market, too. He had lots of playmobile and legos he didn’t play with anymore. But that’d mean he would have had to get up at 5 am just to drive to the location and stand there for a few hours, interacting with god knows who, so he decided against it. 

Steve had saved up quite a lot of money due to his commissions. His favourite thing to draw were forests, mountains and hands – such precise things that take a lot of effort and experience. He loved improving his art skills and studying the history of art, it always expanded his repertoire to a gigantic extend.  
Unfortunately, he hadn’t drawn in weeks. Due to his arm healing slower than he would have liked, he wasn’t able to just pick up a pen and go – but that didn’t stop him from trying. When he arrived at home, he immediately sat down and took a pen. Steve felt inspired, felt like he could sketch something light, but his arm thought differently. 

He couldn’t draw a straight line without having to groan and yelp out of pain and frustration. “Fuck” he sighed as he looked at the wobbly portrait of himself he tried to draw. It looked as if a two-year-old kid drew it. “Hell yeah” he thought to himself as he threw his sketchbook on the ground. Pathetic, just pathetic.  
“Where were you?” he heard his sister say behind him. “Haven’t seen you since breakfast”. “Why? What’s it to you?” Steve laughed, watching her sit on his bed and charge her phone with his charger, not asking him for permission. “Stop being a dick, Steve” she groaned and looked over to him while he picked up his sketchbook. 

“You’re telling me?” he chuckled, crossing his legs as he sat on the bed next to her – but still keeping his distance. “Just tell me where you were goddamn it!”. Steve was shocked. They were taught not to swear, ever – and Anna never sweared. “I was out for a walk but more importantly, when did you start swearing? Mom’s going to freak out” Steve grinned.  
The relationship between Steve and his sister was a bit hard to explain. One the one hand, they’ve always gotten along well and been there for each other; on the other, they were very different from one another. Anna was very out there, very loud and hysteric, meanwhile Steve let the decisions of his past guide him. The majority of the things he did weren’t spontaneous because that would’ve given him no time to consider everything that could’ve potentially gone wrong. They loved each other, but neither were good at showing it. To be completely honest, they also weren’t trying to, at all.

“I always swear, shut up nerd!” she groans and stares at her phone. Her boyfriend had been acting weirdly in the past few days so she looked through the most recent Instagram pictures he liked. “Do you think Alex is cheating on me?” she asked Steve quietly. “Why would he? You’re nice to him and don’t insult him, right?” he answered before he took his phone and sent a meme to Sam. “Of course I don’t, what the fuck? He’s just … been acting weirdly, I don’t really know” Anna sighed as she cuddled into his blanket. She always liked his blanket more than her own.  
“I can almost definitely assure you that he’s not” Steve started, immediately putting his phone away to give her his full attention. This is his chance to be a proper older brother. “Sometimes guys need their space, too. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, maybe he just wants to breathe a little. We all need breaks, right?” he asked and saw her nod thoughtfully. “Give him some space, text him to meet you in a day or two. Don’t you have days where you just want to hide under a blanket and sleep or watch YouTube videos all day?”. “I mean, I do” she sighed. “I just thought we spent so much quality time together and we could kind of … keep that up, you know? I thought one wouldn’t need a break from a person they loved”. 

Steve thought about that statement a bit before he let himself answer. “No, not really. Of course, you love somebody, but there’s just so much time for you to enjoy their presence before it kinda bothers you. Not in a bad way, but in the I want some time to myself way, I think. I’m sure you know what I mean. And if you really think something is up, you could just talk to him. He’s only one call away” Steve shrugged and let himself fall back onto the bed. 

The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon watching tv and sending each other memes on Instagram – not a single word had been spoken in three hours before Anna yawned and got up, looking like a lost puppy. “Yeah so I’m gonna go to bed now, I think” she groaned, stretching her arms to the back. “Sleep well, sissy” Steve grinned. “Shut up, nerd” was all he could hear before she left the room.  
Steve spent the next thirty minutes cleaning up the mess he made and put on a pair of joggers which went well with his black shirt and stared at the cast once again.  
He was ready to get it off. It brought him so much pain and hate. It symbolised anger and violence to him. He would never raise his children to be scared of their father. Well, step-father, he thought. He couldn’t come up with a single reason why he deserved to wear that stupid extra weight with him. Ever since his mother and that bastard of a human being got together, he planned of moving out. He didn’t want to keep up with the man’s bullshit anymore. 

When he heard both of them shouting, he decided to take a little stroll and release some of the tension that unconsciously built itself up in Steve’s brain. He took his jacket, a pack of cigarettes and his headphones with him before he sneaked out of the building.  
When shuffle decided to play “Don’t stop the dance” he grinned. He used to find deep meanings in the songs he listened to. When he listened to that particular song, he liked to imagine that the song was about the deadly sins, mortality and regret. The thought of death always calmed him. One day we, as humans, would go back to the void we came from. He didn’t quite believe in things such as the afterlife, heaven, hell and purgatory, it just didn’t really occur to him that our species was worthy of anything god-like.

Eventually, he realised the song was about listening to your mum’s advice, which just made the song even better. He didn’t feel like doing so though. After he walked around the block, he decided to sit down and have a quick smoke, only to realise he had forgotten his lighter at home. “Fuck” he mumbled and searched his pockets.

“Need a light?” he heard someone say next to him. He looked up and saw a girl, or rather young adult, looking like she was on her way to a night out. “Yeah, that’d be lovely” he answered and brought his head up to lit the cigarette. “You shouldn’t smoke – your teeth will look like actual shit once you’re older” she said, placing her dark brown hair behind her ear. “I don’t even know who you are” Steve muttered. “I’m Maria and I’m telling you to stop smoking. Because your teeth wi- Fuck my bus is coming! Have a good night!” she almost yelled and stepped into the vehicle. 

“What just happened?” Steve whispered to himself before he got up. He stared into the darkness of the street and felt calm. Usually he’d feel intimidated and scared by the utter tenebrosity, not knowing where or who he was and most importantly, being by himself, but for some strange reason, he felt comfortable. He let the cold breeze of air give him goose-bumps and finished his cigarette when he passed his house complex.

He wasn’t sure what he liked about smoking. He didn’t do it very often, he hated the taste, but loved having a reason to walk from A to B in order to be shut away and kinda be by himself.  
Hopefully, Anna won’t tell anybody about me sneaking out, he thought. He didn’t do it often, either. Sometimes he just needed a break. One day he’d stop smoking – he promised himself the day he bought his first pack. 

Steve made his way to the entrance and walked through the house on tippy toes after he took his shoes off and locked the door. Before he could enter his room, he obviously had to run into numerous objects and hurt his knee because life just had to suck sometimes.  
“Ugh” he yawned when he finally entered his room. Luckily he had his own, tiny bathroom, where he cleaned himself up and got ready for bed before he put on his pjs and almost crawled to the bed.  
He sent Sam a quick “Night loser” message before he put his phone away, getting ready for his absolute favourite time of the day.  
No, not sleeping, but everything that happens before. The feeling you get before you fall asleep. The unconscious consciousness. It made him feel as if his thoughts and dreams gracefully performed the dance of death, slowly but surely eliminating one another. 

He quickly recapped the day and remembered the flea market. He hadn’t been to one in ages. He was very looking forward to it. He could’ve potentially signed up to work there, too. He needed a job anyway. He needed money to move out. To live the life he wanted to.  
While his thoughts took over and threw the weirdest combination of information together, he slowly felt his dreams taking over and drifted into the beautiful world where anything was possible – until his thoughts would rip him out of his sleep. It was a bitter-sweet, never-ending battle.


	3. chapter three: crimson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in Thor's life

“ONE WAY OR ANOTHER I’M GONNA FI-’’ was all Thor heard before he found himself yelping for air, his stress level being abnormally high at 9 am. It took him some time to figure out what exactly pulled him out of the comfort of his sleep, but when he glanced to his phone and saw his best friend’s face pop up, he sighed in relief. 

“Thor! Good morning! Rise and shine!” Bruce chuckled through the speakers.  
“Rise and shine my ass, Bruce” Thor yawned. “Why are you calling me? Is something wrong?” the tired boy mumbled.  
“Oh no, not at all. Just showered and thought I’d check up on you – are you free this afternoon? I got some news I would like to share with you” Bruce said but all Thor could focus on was trying not to fall asleep again. “I mean, sure, I’d love to” he groaned. “How about we meet at 4 at Hab’s? The café?” Bruce suggested and heard an agreeing mumble from the other side of the line. “I’ll text you later, see you my friend” Thor smiled tiredly and hung up.  
He liked Bruce, he really did, but it was too early for him to answer questions with actual sentences and not just “yes” or “no”.

After he checked his messages and notifications, the young Icelander sat up. He roughly ran his fingers through his hair and groaned when he realized how tangled it was. Thor put on a random song on shuffle before he got himself ready to head downstairs. He looked at himself through the mirror and carefully brushed his hair, not trying to damage it. 

A shirt and shorts will do, he thought when he walked down the stairs, taking in all of the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Before he could compliment whatever his mother was cooking, he was interrupted by his younger brother’s complaints.

“The day already has started out so horribly, I didn’t wish to see YOU” Loki groaned towards Thor. “Can’t you just go back to your room? I don’t want to have to deal with your aura” the younger brother mumbled. “I love you too, Lokes” Thor chuckled and made his way to the kitchen.

Loki was always the trouble maker in the family. They never had bonding moments because Loki didn’t let Thor get close to him. He wasn’t sure if Loki was jealous of Thor or just had some kind of deep hatred towards him stored in his heart but he loved him anyway. They were very different from one another, giving each other a lot of space to grow and explore who they really were. 

Loki was a very interesting person to Thor. His room looked like a Victorian hallway. He even liked sorcery and tarot readings – even though he would never read Thor’s cards.

“Good morning, móðir” Thor smiled as he walked towards his mother. “Good morning, love. How d-“ Frigga started, almost handing him a bowl of oatmeal when she saw the bun he put his hair into. “Oh Thor, have you forgotten how to tie your hair?” she chuckled and pushed his shoulders down gently, taking the hair tie off his hair and putting a proper bun on his head. “There you go, that’s my handsome boy” Frigga chuckled meanwhile Thor could do nothing but blush and mumble a quiet “Thank you”.

He took the bowl of oatmeal and sat down next to his father, greeting him with a welcoming nod. “Ah, good morning son. How did you sleep?” Odin asked. He was an interesting person, that was for sure. Odin and Frigga moved to America from Iceland due to them wanting a bright future for their sons - they were afraid that Iceland wouldn’t offer that for them. 

The man scratched his cheek as he listened to his son, letting his index finger run over the scar where his left eye once was. He hated when people asked him how he’d lost his eye. He never lost it, he knew exactly where it was. 

(One of his friends pierced it shortly after getting together with Frigga during a sparring accident (Odin was a very stubborn man and wouldn’t accept defeat)).

He started working at a law-firm in Byron Bay 20 years ago,(almost immediately after they moved there) and had gotten himself to a high position, considering the facts that English wasn’t his first language and it took him ages to manage his tamper. 

“Father? Are you listening?” Thor chuckled, shoving the food into his mouth. “Ah yes, Thor. Of course I am” he smiled. He was very proud of his two boys. While Thor and Odin shared many interests such as politics and sports, Loki had more than enough in common with Frigga such as art, poetry and music. They sometimes talk to another telepathically, Odin thought as he looked across the room and saw them smiling at each other before Loki’s boyfriend Nathan made his way down the stairs. 

“G’morning” he mumbled, sitting down next to Thor. “Good morning my friend” Thor smiled brightly and patted his back firmly, forcing the younger man to shriek in pain. “Hey man” Nathan mumbled. He’d only been with Loki for a few weeks when the Odinson family took him into their horde. He dropped out of high-school a year ago but found himself working at a small Italian restaurant just a few weeks later, where he and Loki met. In fact, Loki saw him working there and coincidentally showed up every day for two weeks until he got Nathan’s number. 

As you can tell by now, the Odinsons aren’t very shy about their feelings. 

Thor ruffled Nathan’s dyed hair and pulled the plate with fruits (which Frigga previously had put on the table) towards Loki’s boyfriend. “Eat, you need strength for the day” Odin said loudly, instantly intimidating the boy.

Loki decided to join them and sat next to his partner. He put his hand on Nathan’s thigh and smiled mischievously at the many visible hickeys on Nathan’s neck. “Anything important coming up today, Thor?” Loki asked and moved his chair closer to the table. 

“Well, actually I decided to meet up with Bruce later in the afternoon. Why? Were you planning on spending time with me?” Thor grinned, already knowing the answer. 

“Oh, gods no. Just wanted to know if Nathan and I would get to hang out in the living room or if your narcotic screams of victory when a goal has been scored in todays football game would stop us from doing so” Loki answered, gracefully taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“Do not worry brother, your lover and you will have the living room to yourselves” Thor smiled but sighed shortly after as he realised that he had finished his food already. 

After he put the dishes into the dishwasher he decided to work out. It was 10 am, after all. He was ready to start the day.

He made his way to the workout room he built himself in the backyard, which consisted of weights, a bench press, and a treadmill (Odin bought them for himself ages ago but never used them - so Thor basically saw an opportunity and took it)  
——  
At that point, forty-five minutes had passed before he put down the large weights in his hands. He felt drained. Thor admired the endorphins rushing through his body and smiled at the veins on his arms. He loved the way his almost worn out shirt clung to his body after a good session. Something about the feeling of fresh sweat on his chest made him feel pleased as if he had achieved something great. 

He traipsed throw the backyard and yawned, trying his hardest not to collapse on his way to the bathroom. For some strange reason, the wind didn’t bother him after working out. He actually liked it a lot. Goosebumps were one of the many ordinary things he loved experiencing, for example when he listened to a song and the guitarist hit that one spot with his instrument that made the entirety of the hair on Thor’s body stand up straight. Man, he adored it. 

As he finally got into the shower and let the hot water run all over his body, he let out a loud sigh. He had struggled with his workouts recently. For some reason, he couldn’t find any motivation to keep him going - which didn’t stop him from working out, though. 

The almost narcotic feeling of the hot water took over his arms and chest, letting his upper body be paralysed by the calming liquid for a short while. 

“Mhm” he moaned, shampooing his long hair and decided to take his time. He’d hang out with his friend in about 6 hours, after all.  
When he finished cleaning himself up, he carefully trimmed his beard in front of the mirror. Even though he had only turned 20, his beard was already thick and had to be maintained properly.  
____

Thor walked to his room, fully dressed and sat down at the bench he built himself about 5 years ago. Whenever they visited home, they’d go to museums, spend entire weekends at medieval fairs and travel all across the country, admiring the sights, taking in the history and memories their predecessors had left them to learn from in order to give it to the next generations to come. 

When Thor was 8, Odin took him to a blacksmith outside of Reykjavik. After only having entered the room, he immediately knew he wanted to become one as well. As he introduced himself he asked many questions regarding anything metal and tool-related. Frigga had taught him to be kind and always respectful towards whomever he would meet, you would never know what the person you would talk to has gone through, so he listened to whatever the man had to say.

His father let him spend 2 hours at the shop. Thor saw pictures of people capable of forging mighty (and deadly) weapons out of a small block of iron, create small and detailed recreations of what appeared to him as small hammers, triangles, ships and even people. He could even see their facial expressions which made Thor sigh, thinking about how he could barely draw a square without using a stencil. 

That summer the young boy visited the shop almost every single day, talking to the owner about all the myths his mother read to him at night. The owner even let him help him with tasks such as changing the water he dipped the unfinished commissions in or getting more wood in order to keep the fire alive. Thor absolutely loved it.

As soon as they arrived back in America, Thor had still one week until school would start, which he spent exclusively on building a table and chairs with Odin while trying to show him what he learned at the blacksmith’s by giving him demonstrations with made-up things. Odin cherishes that moment until today.

After they were finished, Thor spent the next years training himself to carve pendants, people, replicas of Viking treasures and even attempted to create his own mythical creatures (but failed horribly).

Fortunately, there was a blacksmith in Byron Bay who just so happened to be a friend of Odin’s. Well, less a blacksmith, more a guy who got bored and bought full station filled with utensils and a working chamber. He showed Thor how to master the craft and regularly let him work on simple things as in bracelets and necklaces. Once they were finished, Thor carved patterns and runes into them until he felt like they were ready to be sold.

Thor opened the big book of runes he had bought years ago, browsed through the pages until he found the specific pattern he was looking for, took out a knife, the bracelet, and went to work.

He admired his creation. He felt himself improving bit by bit, gracefully cutting along the lines of Jörmungandr and making sure it looked as dangerous as it was, according to the Edda.  
He let his index finger run over the design he created, ending up glueing a chain at each end of the small, wooden block, finishing off the bracelet by clipping the ends together.

Saying that he had many jobs would’ve been an understatement. Thor loved spreading love and positivity wherever he could and as long as his parents would have him live at their place, he had no reason to look for an apartment. Sure, he would love to go to Uni but that could wait. 

He couldn’t decide on what he wanted to do yet, though - so until he had to make the big decision, he would work for whoever would take him. 

He stared at the ring on his middle finger, being incredibly proud of his work. It was nothing special, a silver ring with the typical Norse curves and lines on it, but the fact that he made it himself, filled his heart with such joy that he actually made 2 duplicates just for the sake of having them.

An entire hour had been spent on putting the finishing touches on the bracelet before Thor checked his phone, replying to a meme Bruce had tagged him in. He was looking forward to the flea market so he could show off his new work 

He was even looking forward to explaining their meanings to people, being happy to share the tales and myths of his gods. He felt obliged to do it, somehow. 

————

As the clock turned 3:30, Thor’s deafening alarm pulled him out of the nap he had been enjoying thoroughly. He stretched his arms out and got off the bed, turning off his alarm and immediately put on deodorant and cologne- he didn’t want to make a bad impression on people he might meet today, after all. 

“Goodbye, everybody!”He yelled before he put his headphones on, ignoring all the sounds coming from outside and immediately started dancing to Joji’s music as he unlocked the lock on his bike and proceeded to swing his leg over its side and ride off.

Biking was his favourite thing to do. He didn’t know what his favourite part about it was, though. Whether it was the fresh air in his face, the music changing his pace or taking his hands off the handles and just ride with his bike hands-free, he couldn’t tell. 

When Thor arrived, Bruce had already been sitting there for 5 minutes, sipping on his frappuccino. 

“Hello, my friend” Thor smiled as he put the bike aside and walked towards Bruce, spreading his big arms and embraced his much smaller friend with a big hug.  
“Hey, big guy” Bruce laughed and immediately felt the familiar comfort in Thor’s arms he always felt when they hugged.

Bruce was about 5’7 and had very curly, dark brown hair which matched his dark brown eyes. A big, round pair of glasses sat on top of his nose and on top of that, he had the most kissable lips Thor had ever seen. Not that he wanted to kiss him, but he saw the appeal. 

“So, what was it you were so excited about?” Thor asked, looking his friends outfit up and down. Bruce had such a splendid sense of clothing, he even made a black sweater and black skinny jeans look chić. 

“So long story short - I finally got a job!” he smiled brightly. Bruce had the tendency to be very picky about everything, especially where he’d work. Of course, he was grateful to be employed, but the tiniest thing could drive him insane to the point of quitting on the same day.  
He’d been looking for employment for about 2 months now, forcing Thor to help him look for anything he thought his friend might enjoy.

Thor’s entire face lit up as he cheered for his friend. “Hel yes! That’s incredible! How? Where? When?” he asked excitedly, almost jumping up and down on the small chair he sat on, making it even look tinier than it was with his enormous body.

“So Ursula's aunt Andrea, who is friends with Alex, had this coworker called James, who gave Alex Andrew’s phone number, who sent Chrissy my number, who so happens to be the owner of the Swarovski store on Stevenson Road! I popped in there three days ago to have a job interview with her. She showed me around the entire store and talked about everything and nothing about the same time. She’s a little bit of a bitch but we’ll work it out. She called me today to tell me I got the job and I wanted to share the news with you!” Bruce smiled happily and Thor immediately got up, saying nothing, grinning to himself as he realised he knew none of the people Bruce had mentioned in the story.

“Where are you going?” Bruce asked, raising his eyebrows. Thor just walked into the shop and got himself some chai tea and two big slices of lime pie before he placed them on their table outside. “Time to celebrate. Or is it not?” He chuckled and handed Bruce a spoon.

They munched on their cake and told each other stories of shit employers. Thor told Bruce stories about old ladies trying to steal lettuce while Bruce told his friend stories about men trying to flirt with him as he worked for the local ice cream shop. 

“Also, I find people who eat their cakes with forks horrible. I get a headache just thinking about it.” Bruce exclaimed and stared at his friend's hand, holding a small fork in his hand which looked like a toy in Thor’s paw.

“Only spoiled people eat their cake with spoons” Thor said before shaking his head and kicking Bruce in the shin. “Bastard” Bruce coughed and tried to twist Thor’s hand but failed.

He loved spending time with Bruce. He had many friends he loved seeing but Bruce and a girl called Maria were the dearest to his heart. Ironically, his closest friends almost looked like siblings, the big difference being that Maria had the biggest heart Thor had ever seen. There was nothing she couldn’t love. 

After what felt like 10 minutes (but actually were 3 hours) Bruce had to leave so Thor lazily rode his bike home again, purposely taking the big route so he could listen to the waves crashing against the shores.

When he walked into their house, he could already smell Frigga’s delicious cooking fill the rooms. ”Mhm” he muttered, taking off his vans and walked straight into the kitchen, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek. 

“Hey sæti” she smiles, turning around to give him a big hug. Even though he was almost a foot taller than her she still gave bigger and better hugs than he ever could. 

“What are you preparing?” He yawned, hopping onto the kitchen isle and stole one of the carrots she was about to put into the soup.

“Lamb meat soup” she sighed. “I know that we usually only eat it during winter but your father has been working hard lately and you know how much he loves that damn dish” she chuckled and stirred the pot, adding the final touches to her mixture. “So why not treat him a little bit?” Frigga said, more or less talking to herself. 

Thor shrugged and made his way to his room, getting into more comfortable clothes. He put on a pair of pyjama pants and a shirt he usually worked out in but he didn’t care, nobody would judge him.

“Hey dude, how was your afternoon?” Nathan asked, entering Thor’s room without knocking. It was one of the things the Odinsons did not care about at all - waiting until somebody said they could enter a room.

“Very beautiful. I had good a good pie, refreshing tea and saw my best mate. I’d say it was as good as it could get” Thor smiled and saw Nathan sit down at his desk, wearing Loki’s clothes exclusively as he admired Thor’s work. “What about you? Did you get up to anything interesting?” he asked, taking his hair out of the bun and started to comb it carefully.

“Not really. Loki worked on some paintings while I helped your father get the lawnmower working again, come to think of it, you should’ve probably done that” He sighed and shook his head, pointing his middle fingers towards Thor who gave him an apologetic laugh. 

Dinner passed by quickly, Odin told Nathan the origin of the soup and how it’s usually eaten during winter and how Frigga always had to keep some on the side because Loki was vegetarian. 

Thor loved seeing Loki happy. He deserved it. Loki never had anybody, or more specifically, he never let anybody come close to him until he met Nathan - whom he seemed to be treating very lovingly. 

About 40 minutes later, he traipsed back into his room and watched the sunset through his window. If only I could draw, he thought and chuckled quietly. He had always admired sunsets, especially the ones he would get to watch from the comfort of his room. They were the prettiest to him.

“Goodnight, Thor” Frigga whispered in the room and blew her son a kiss before she turned off his light and left the room. He threw himself onto his bed and turned on the tv, immediately ignoring whatever was on and played Level 413 in Candy Crush. 

The later it got, the heavier his eyelids felt. Once it was half-past 12 am he decided it was time for him to go to bed. He charged his phone, turned off the tv and snuggled underneath the blanket. He couldn’t wait for the flea market - he was ready for whatever was going to happen tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it, ill try to update asap!! would love to hear your feedback :)


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